As the World Ends
by TheGladElf
Summary: Annabeth and Percy are regular kids. Their biggest worry is getting through junior year. Then the virus hits New York and these unlikely friends find themselves trying to survive in the midst of a zombie outbreak. AU
1. A study date with my mortal frenemy

The day the apocalypse happened, it was the most popular topic in school.

All the kids at my high school were talking about at least. For the three days, we had all been hearing reports about disease and mayhem breaking out on the west coast. All kinds of rumors were circulating. The media took the story and ran with it. Videos were posted online. People were blogging about why it was happening. Radio shows talked about how it wasn't happening. But, it was hard to figure out the truth with all the reports and contradictions.

"That video is a fake, Grover," I say. "You'll have to do better than that before you can convince me that we're facing the outbreak of a zombie virus." I took a bite of pizza and returned to my calculus homework. Sure, it wasn't due until tomorrow, but I had soccer practice tonight and I liked getting a good night's sleep. Gotta make sure I'm fresh for class in the morning.

"C'mon, Annabeth. That's totally real," he argued. He tapped his phone and held it out to me so I could watch the video again. Beside him, his girlfriend Juniper looked away. The video wasn't much. Just some unstable footage of three people stumbling around and a lot of screaming on the cameraman's (and yes, it was obviously a guy) part.

"He never gets close enough for you to see them."

"They're zombies. If they get close, you're dead." To illustrate his point, the camera hit the pavement as the screams changed pitch. "There are reports from all over. Los Angeles, San Francisco, Seattle. And it's moving. Yesterday it hit Denver and Houston. This morning there was an outbreak in Miami."

"Miami?" Juniper said. "Doesn't Percy have family down there?"

We all looked over at the unofficial "cool" table.

Now, I'm not saying that I am unpopular. I have friends. I've known Grover since preschool. But I'm not Big Three material.

If you go to Mount Olympus High School for Gifted Teens (MO for short), you know that when we say "the Big Three" we mean the children of business moguls Zeus, Poseidon and Hades. They're a pretty tight-knit group. Not because their snobs—okay, they can totally be snobs sometimes—but it's never intentional. It's just when you get used to things being certain way, you don't always think about the fact that they'll different for other people. Anyways, the cousins (there are five of them at our school now that Nico has skipped eighth grade) are close. Which is surprising considering that their dads are constantly at odds with each other.

"I wouldn't know," I said. I hadn't had a real conversation with Percy since we were twelve, right before I moved out to San Fran.

Percy's laughing at something his cousins Jason is saying. If Percy's worried, he doesn't show it. I look away before he can see me looking. Most of the girls in the cafeteria have or have had or are in the process of developing a crush on Percy Jackson. I refuse to identify with those girls as matter of principle. And pride.

Somewhere there might be an alternate universe where I'm part of that group. Where the people at that table are still my best friends. Where Grover and I spend time trading jokes with Thalia and teasing Nico. Where Bianca and I have sleepovers and I give Jason advice on getting a girlfriend. But I cut myself out of that world a long time ago. And just because I was back, didn't mean I was looking to get back in with my old friends. After everything that's gone down, it just wasn't a smart idea.

The bell rings. My books slide back into my bag, my lunch slides into the trashcan by the door. Grover gives Juniper a kiss on the cheek as he heads with the seniors to algebra. Juniper and I head to Latin.

Now, at most schools, it would be weird for me to say that my favorite class is Latin class. But at MO, I'm pretty sure Latin is every junior's favorite class. Even the ones who are struggling. Why? Two words: our teacher. Mr. Brunner is one of those people who was born to teach. He makes Latin vivid and alive for all of us, even people like—well, like Percy. He's always bringing his weapons with him and having us act out the stories that we're muddling through in class.

Juniper and I take our places in the back (more Juniper's preference that mine, but whatever). She pulls out her homework and checks it real quick. It's correct. I already helped her proof it. I pull out my notebook and start going over my notes from last class. Just to keep fresh. I'm halfway through when it comes to my attention that the entire classroom, which would normally be buzzing with pre-class chatter, has fallen silent.

I look up.

Percy is staring at the ground right in front of my desk.

"Hey, Annabeth," he says.

"Hey," I say back. "Um, what's up." Surely he's not desperate enough to be asking me to homecoming.

"Well, I was wondering—" He pauses. Or maybe he is. A hand runs through his messy hair as he leans against the desk in front of mine. "Look. Mr. Brunner's essay is due next week and I was wondering if you'd be able to help me out. You know, being the smartest girl in class and all."

Wise Girl.

That's what he used to call me when we were friends.

"Sure, I guess." I reply. Every eye is on us. They all know about the bad blood between our parents.

"Okay. So…meet up at the library after school?"

I nod. Percy stands there for another minute as the silence continues. Then he turns and takes a seat next to Bianca, another one of his cousins, and Jason. Suddenly, everyone is talking again and more than a few stares are directed at me. Never at Percy, just me.

Then it's all over because Mr. Brunner is walking in. He writes five Latin verbs on the chalkboard.

"What ho, Percy!" Mr. Brunner says as he tosses a piece of chalk to Percy and asks him to start conjugating the verbs.

The rest of the day passes quickly. Too quickly for me. I am justifiably concerned about my little study session with the son of Poseidon.

When I was twelve, my best friends were Grover Underwood, Thalia Grace, her future boyfriend Luke Castellan and her dorky cousin Percy Jackson. My mom was a designer for Kronos Travel Industries, a company owned by Zeus and Poseidon Kronos (for some reason, Bianca and Nico's dad, Hades decided to go into the funeral home business). Thalia and Jason's dad built planes. Percy's dad built boats. I'd known Thalia since I was six when she took the job at KTI. It was a great job for my mom, she loved designing the planes and boats. But eventually, she wanted to move on. She wanted to start her own architectural design company. Zeus was all for it. Poseidon wasn't. Things happened and Poseidon totally screwed my mom over when the split happened. It was a big scandal in the business world. My mom sent me to live with my dad in San Francisco for a while. And I lost Percy and Thalia and Luke as friends. Not that they didn't try, especially Thalia, but after what Percy's dad did to my mom, I just couldn't talk to any of them. Grover had been the only person who it wasn't awkward to talk with when I left New York. Consequently, he'd sided with me in the whole Athena vs. Poseidon thing.

I'd known when I came back for my junior year that I could probably rebuild the bridges my mom burned. But so much time has passed and so many hard feelings remain, I'm not sure I want to. I hadn't expected Percy to ever speak to me again.

He was waiting for me when I got to the library. It's surprising. I'd expected things to be the other way around. I dump my backpack on the table and pull out a chair.

"Jackson," I say.

"Chase," he replies.

We stare at the table.

"So, why me? Of all the people in that class, Percy, why me?"

Percy fidgets with the cuff of his letterman's jacket. Finally, he looks at me.

"I really want to get an A in Mr. Brunner's class," he says. "The rest, I don't really care about as long as my grades are good enough to keep me on the swim team. But Mr. Brunner—he just, he believes in me. I don't want to let him down." I think back to earlier in class. And he's right, most of the teachers ignore Percy. But Mr. Brunner knows what I know, Percy Jackson is smarter than he looks. "I figured you were my best shot. Nobody else would take me seriously."

"Okay."

Percy leans down and pulls out his Latin notebook.

"This is what I've got so far."

I look at his notebook.

"I really like the first two ideas, but I didn't want to stop there." Mr. Brunner was always encouraging us to think past our comfort zones.

His ideas aren't half bad. I point to the second one. It reads 'Strength vs. cunning in Greek mythology'.

"This one could work, but it's too general. You'd be writing for hours. What if you focused on two specific examples?"

Percy nods.

"Maybe I could use Hercules as one of my examples and then—" He starts going through his notes.

"You could juxtapose his stories with Odysseus."

"Odysseus. He, um was the one…"

"Who thought up the Trojan horse. Yeah."

We sit there for an hour. Percy flips back and forth in his notes, writing down everything he can about the two heroes. I continue to do homework.

"Hey," I say, "I have soccer practice in an hour. You've got a good start." I start putting my books back into my bag. Percy grins. I have to grab at my train of thought. "How about we meet back here on Thursday and go over what you have by then."

Percy nods. I pick my bag up and walk away.

"Hey. Annabeth."

I stop.

"What?" I ask.

When the silence forces me to turn around, Percy is standing with his backpack over one shoulder. His other hand is in his pocket. He's watching me. I want to disappear and stand out all at the same time.

"Is your mom still mad about…you know?" He shrugs.

"You mean about the time she walked into her office to find him screwing her assistant? Or did you mean when he cost her the Architecture Award? Or how about the fact that half of her designs are still sitting on some computer at KTI?" I should sound angry. I should be angry. My mom's career was seriously set back by Poseidon's jealousy.

But Percy is not Poseidon. And despite the fact that he has a super-rich dad, he is surprisingly down to earth. Most of the time.

"That's a yes, then."

"I haven't heard any apologies." I turn and walk out of the library. If I don't leave now, I won't have enough time to change into my uniform.

"Wait." Percy runs up beside me. He's not even breathing hard. "Wait, Annabeth. If it makes any difference, I'm sorry. For what my dad did."

Where is this coming from? I've been here since the beginning of the semester and this is the first time anyone from Percy's group has reached out to me. Why now? Percy is obviously not done. I lean back and cross my arms. Percy looks at the ground again and for the first time I realize that Percy Jackson, who can stand on top of a tiny platform in nothing but a Speedo and grin at the crowd, is nervous talking to me.

What if he's not the only one?

"Look, I know Thalia and the others miss you. So if you wanted to hang out with us, we're going to the new Thor movie tonight at 8:30. Ask Grover and Juniper if they want to come. We miss them too."

"I, uh,-"

"Think about it, Annabeth." And then Percy is blending into the traffic on the street.

I start to head off in the opposite direction. Ringing interrupts my train of thought before it even has a chance to begin.

"Hey, Mom?"

"Annabeth, thank God. Where are you right now?" My mother does not ask questions. She demands answers. But this is weird, my mom sounds different. Not confident. Worried maybe? Did I lose track of time with Percy. Did my coach call her to ask where I was? But no, my phone clock confirms that it is exactly the time I thought it was.

"I'm headed to soccer practice right now."

"No, Annabeth. Get inside. Find somewhere safe. Somewhere hard to get to and call the police. Stay inside and stay quiet."

I don't remember much from when the Towers fell. I was only five. What I do remember is the sound of my mother's voice when she picked me up from school hours too early and rushed me home.

"Mom, what's going on." I look up in the sky. But you can't really see anything. Not from down here on the street.

"The reports are true, honey. They're all true." My mom talks quickly and I struggle to keep up with her rtrain of thought. What is true? The reports. Reports about wh—oh my gods. I realize what my mom is saying just as she gets to the point. "The virus broke out in New York this morning."

"Okay. Okay. I'm not far from school, I can just go back there."

I hang up on my mom and head back to school. A wave of people rushes past me. I drop my phone. I bend down to pick it up. A foot almost stomps on my hand. These people are panicked. Scared. I stand up, trying to see what they're running from. From way back in the crowd someone screams. High and piercing. Just like the screams at the end of Grover's video. My phone can stay where it is. I turn and run.

The school isn't far. My foot is on the first steps when I think about Percy.

He's out there. Five minutes or so to my left and he probably has no idea. Maybe his mom called him. His dad, I know, is on a business trip, he and Jason were talking about it in algebra this morning. But even if he knew, would he think to go back to the school?

I jog back down the steps.

"Percy," I yell. Even though there is no way he'd hear me. He could be anywhere.

But I can't just leave him.

* * *

**I really cannot believe that I am writing this story, it has so many elements that I usually don't like reading (AU is very rarely a temptation for me). In the end I blame it on the artist, viria. She posted this great pic of Percy and Annabeth fighting off zombies on her blog and suddenly I needed PJO AU zombie-fic. I haven't been able to get this story out of my head since then. **

**Just a warning, I have no idea where I am going with this story...Or how long it will be...Or how often I'll post...Or if I'll even finish it. So...Read at your own risk? There's at least one more chapter.**


	2. A Skateboard Saves My Life

Grover was right.

Grover WAS right.

Grover was RIGHT.

The litany repeats itself in my head. One syllable for each footstep.

I hope he's safe. I hope he and Juniper are holed up somewhere far away from the madness that is overtaking NYC.

I am yelling Percy's name as I run. I try to figure out which metro station he would take to get to his mom's apartment. Percy's parents never married and most of the time he lives with his mom, Sally.

Two blocks from the school, the people start to thin out. I don't know where they are going, just away from here. I keep straight on. Sure that Percy is this way.

At last, I see him in front of me.

"Percy," I yell.

He doesn't hear me. His shaggy, dark head is bent down. He has his skateboard under one arm, but it's too crowded for him to use it.

"Percy," I yell again. Doubling my pace I catch up to him. I grab his arm as screams erupt from behind me. Percy yanks his arm away before he can see that it's me. He has earbuds in. I grab him again and push him into an alley. The earbuds come out of his ears.

"What the-," he starts, but I cut him off by pressing a hand to his mouth. I shove him down behind a dumpster. He looks at me. "Gee, Chase, if you wanted to get me alone…"

"Shut it, Jackson." I peer around the dumpster corner.

There are zombies in the street. Zombies. One grabs a woman who runs past the alley and bites her. Blood covers them both. Percy leans around behind me.

"Holy Hera," he says. And then he says a few other things that would probably get him in just as much trouble if his mom heard them. I push him back against the wall.

"Stay out of sight," I say. Can the zombies smell? Will they track our scents into the alley? As if in answer to my question, a zombie stops at the entrance to our alleyway. I watch as it sniffs the air for a minute then moves on. I know that is only the first. "C'mon," I say. Up goes the lid of the dumpster. And in I go. Hopefully, the smell will cover us.

"You cannot be serious." Percy is eyeing me and the dumpster like he's trying to decide which part of this whole scenario is crazier.

"Do you want to live, Jackson?"

More screams from out on the street.

Percy takes the best option available. He jumps in the dumpster with me. We let the lid fall.

It stinks.

I want to throw up, but I don't want it to stink worse. So I don't. It's almost black inside the dumpster, only a little light comes in from a spot in one corner where rust has eaten through the metal.

"So how long do we have to stay in here?" Percy asks.

"I don't know."

"What's going on?"

"I don't know."

"Does this mean that I don't have to study for our algebra exam?"

I almost laugh. But I don't, because I hear scuffling in the alley. A finger on my lips, I lean forward slowly so that I can see out of the hole. A hand passes my peephole. It's pale as a sheet, except for where it's covered in thick, black blood. The hand disappears. Moments later, another figure stumbles past.

It's a long time before Percy and I move again.

We wait for the screams to stop. I count off the minutes in my head. Restarting every time I hear any kind of sound. If the food source is gone, will the zombies move on? Maybe we can make a run for the school then.

"You know," Percy says, "this is awfully romantic. You. Me. A dark dumpster full of trash." An attractive boy whispering into my ear. Okay, I'll admit it. I might have a teeny crush on Percy Jackson. "I have to tell you, this really give me high expectations for the second date."

I don't know what is wrong with my brain. Hot boy hitting on me? Check. Mother's certain disapproval? Check. Guaranteed popularity? Check. Most teenage girls would be ecstatic. I was thinking that getting eaten by zombies might be preferable to spending one more minute in the dark with Percy. Because he was close enough that if I turned my head, we'd be kissing.

This so would not work.

"I think the coast is clear."

"Running away, Chase?"

"Percy, the world may be ending. Do you want to survive or do you want to sit in the dark hitting on me for another few hours?" I pushed the lid of the dumpster up a sliver. Nothing in the alley was moving. I stood and carefully propped the lid against the wall. Percy crawled out with me.

The smell follows us. We are wearing it now, instead of being surrounded by it. As bad as it is, I'd rather smell of trash than of human.

"So what's the plan?" Percy whispers. We pause at the edge of the alley.

"Why do I have to come up with the plan?" I ask. I glare at him. Wasn't saving our butts enough?

"Thinker," he says, pointing at me. Then he points at himself. "Doer. You think up the plan and I'll make sure it happens."

"Fine. We need weapons and we need somewhere safe to stay."

"So," he stops and thinks for a minute.

"School," we say together.

Now you might think that a school is a strange place to find weapons. But, let me explain something about our Latin teacher. Chiron Brunner is a bit eccentric.

I'm pretty sure that teaching Latin is his hobby and reenactments are his full time profession. The man has weapons from almost every era you could imagine. Civil War. Revolution. Seven Years War. The World Wars. But nothing and I mean nothing compares to his collection of weapons (replicas and historical artifacts) from the Greek and Roman period. Reason #1 why he is the boys' favorite teacher. Now, most of them he doesn't keep on the school premises. It's hard to explain a Lee-Enfield rifle mounted on your classroom wall, even if it isn't loaded. (Kids only know about his guns because Mr. Brunner teaches World History to the freshmen and sophomore classes.) But the older weapons? Swords. Spears. Knives. Some of those he keeps in his office. He even has a few bows and crossbows locked up in the gym. Did I mention he also teaches self-defense? Once you hit junior year, you can satisfy your PE credit by signing up for Mr. Brunner's self-defense class a.k.a. Weapons 101.

It is—was one of the classes that Percy and I shared.

The coast looks clear. Not counting the bodies that have been left behind now that that the feeding frenzy has moved on. I step over the body of a woman as I leave the alley.

"Hold on," Percy says. He returns to where I found him. Looking a little green, Percy pulls his skateboard out from underneath a teenage boy.

"Seriously, Jackson?"

"Seriously. Chase. I don't have enough books in my backpack to use it as a weapon." Percy stiffens. Then he runs over to where I am. Taking my arm, he hurries in the direction of school. "He moved."

"You moved him."

"Annabeth. I saw him move."

I want to roll my eyes and call him a drama queen, but then I see a small girl twitch. And it's not because she could be alive. There is a large, gaping wound in her neck. Her shirt is dark from blood with one bright patch on her left shoulder to show us that the shirt was yellow. We start to run. The bodies don't get any thinner as we get closer to the school. Something grabs at my ankle. Pavement grinds into my palms as I fall. Kicking at the zombie clawing at my leg, I scramble up. A thwack sounds from behind me. Percy has clocked the zombie on the head with his skateboard. We keep running.

We reach the school. All around us, corpses are starting to stir. None of them are on their feet yet, but I know it won't be long.

Percy tries the door.

It's locked.

He looks at me with panic in his green eyes. I'm pretty sure he's seeing the same thing in mine.

"What now?" he asks. "Do we try the other doors?"

But there's no time for that. I grab his skateboard, swinging it so the hard rubber wheels hit one of the small window panes. It shatters and I continue breaking pieces of glass out. Not taking the time to undo the buttons, I rip my shirt off and wrap it around my hand. Glass snags at the fabric as I reach in a turn the lock, but it doesn't touch my skin.

"C'mon," I say, turning to Percy, who is watching me, open-mouthed. My black tank top suddenly feels much lower than it actually is. Resisting the urge to yank it up past my collar bones, I open the door and head inside.

"Wow, Chase. First a dumpster and now breaking and entering with a strip tease. This is turning into the best first date ever."

I pull the door shut. Later, if I have time, I will admire his ability to laugh in the face of death.

"We need to barricade the door."

"One step ahead of you. Help me with this." He has the end of one of the metal benches that line our hallways. I grab the other and we swing it around, shoving the legs at my end through the two push bars on each door. "Think that'll hold?"

I nod.

"So…weapons now?" Percy asks.

"Hold on." Pulling Percy down the hall just enough that we're hidden in the growing shadows, I watch. Streetlights are coming on. The corpses are getting up. They wander the street. A few make the climb up the steps. Every muscle in me tenses, but I don't move. They push at the doors and shuffle around, but when nothing gives and with nothing to attract their attention, they move on. I stop holding my breath. "We should secure the back doors."

The main building of our school is several stories and shares two sides with the buildings on either side of it. Leaving the front and back the only places with entrances that we need to worry about. We quickly execute the set up on the front doors on the doors at the back of the gym and the service entrance in the cafeteria. While we're there I dump my school books and stuff food in my backpack. Not the most nutritious options, but it'll keep us from starving if we have to run. Percy does the same.

"Now," I say, "weapons." Mr. Brunner's office is, of course, locked. Percy busts up the end of his skateboard attacking the doorknob. Eventually, it breaks off and we gain access. I've been in Mr. Brunner's office on multiple occasions. I head straight for the wall covered in weapons.

"Whoa," Percy says.

I have better things to do than stare. I start pulling things down. A bronze knife for me. Another one I hand to Percy. He's busy staring at a sword. He reaches out and lifts it down from the wall as if he's afraid it will turn to dust in his hands. Like the rest of Mr. Brunner's Greek weapons, this sword is made of bronze. It has a leaf-like shape and a hilt that is wrapped in leather. Mr. Brunner called it Anaklusmos. It's a perfect replica of a sword found in a dig in Athens, according to him.

"I like this one." Percy holds it out.

It's good enough, I suppose. There is a large cabinet in the corner. It's locked as well, but I know where the keys are. Out of it I pull belts and sheaths.

"Here," I say, tossing one to Percy. It's made to go over the shoulder and looks about right for the sword he has. Then I pull out what I was really looking for. Mr. Brunner's crossbow and a quiver of bolts.

"Wish we had some guns."

"You obviously have never watched _The Walking Dead_," I say.

"And you have?"

"I'm friends with Grover."

Percy nods as if to say "touché".

"Guns draw attention and run out. Better to have weapons that don't rely on ammo."

I attach the quiver to my belt and sling the crossbow over my shoulder.

"Now what, oh Smart One?" Percy asks with a grin.

"Now we make sure the rest of the building is secure."

We search every floor. Starting at the ground and working our way up. The school's silent alarm is probably going crazy right now, but with what is happening all over the city, I doubt that it is the only one. Percy wants to split up, but I quickly quash that idea. Better not to wander off.

Everything is quiet, too quiet for me to feel easy. This is usually the point in the movies where it all goes to hell. But luckily for us, this isn't a movie. This is very, very real. We return to the second floor and set up in a classroom that faces the street. I didn't see much zombie action in the alley. It's the horde out front that worries me. Percy steps out for a minute and comes back with pillows and blankets from the nurse's office.

"Here," he says, handing me a pillow and pointing to a corner. "Knowing you, you've probably been up since the butt crack of dawn. I can take the first watch."

Percy pulls together two desks next to a window in the back corner and hops on top of them. He looks outside. I'm not quite sleepy yet, so I come up next to him. He looks tense. I glance at the clock. 8:30. The time he was meeting his cousins at the theatre.

"I'm sure they're fine."

"What?"

"Thalia. Jason. Bianca. Nico. I'm sure they were off the streets and goofing off at home when everything went crazy."

Percy nods. "It's not them I'm worried about."

"Really?" I scoot onto a desk, placing my feet in the blue, plastic seat.

"You think it's true? The stuff they were saying this morning about Miami."

"Probably."

"My brother is down there."

I'm shocked. I didn't know Percy had brother.

"He's seven. He lives down there with his mom."

"Percy—I didn't know…"

"Maybe I should try checking on them." He pulls out his cellphone. Takes a look and then groans. Reception at school has always been horrible. Personally, I think the principal has some sort of cellphone blocker on school premises. Percy doesn't speak again, so I head to my little nest in the corner.

"Hey. Annabeth."

"Yeah?"

His face is turned towards me and the light makes it hard to see his expression.

"Thanks for coming after me. I'd be a goner if not for you."

I shrug. Like it's no big deal.

"Seriously, nobody would have blamed you if you had left me on my own. You didn't have to help me."

"Of course I did."

"Why?"

"Because you're my friend, Seaweed Brain." The name slips out like I used it just yesterday and I realize something.

It's true.

I guess this was inevitable. Not the zombie thing, but us. If the world hadn't dissolved into chaos, Percy reaching out to me today would have just been the start. Today's event had just sped things up. He was my friend and being mad at him would always feel wrong. Deep inside of me, something that had been twisted up for a long time, finally released.

"Anymore stupid questions."

"No." I didn't need to see his face to know that he was smiling.

Pulling the blanket up, I turn away from the window and tell Percy to wake me up in a couple of hours.

After I few minutes, I hear Percy whisper, "Good night, Wise Girl."

* * *

**If you've asked any questions. HERE is where you want to look. Because I'm not saying this again.**

**This story has no plan. No update schedule. I work on it when I have ideas and when those ideas peter out, well, hopefully I'll have ended it by then. But I am making no promises.**

**One thing I do want to do is start to work in moments from the books. You may have noticed that I already have. If there are any that you think might work in this world/scenario, go ahead an mention them in your review. I may use them, I may not, it all depends on the needs of the story. But I'd appreciate the help remembering all the good ones (because there have been so many good ones). And not just the Percabeth moments, I do want to incorporate other characters from the series. Just be warned. I'm fudging some of the ages a little bit (mostly Luke).**

**So enjoy.**


	3. I am worse than dead

"Percy."

Gods, five more minutes, Mom.

"Percy."

Seriously, it's the zombie apocalypse. There is no school.

"Seaweed Brain. Get. Up."

My eyes open to find Annabeth Chase standing over me. Arms crossed. Looking every bit as intimidating as her mother.

"Here." She gives me a handful of Kleenex. "You drool when you sleep."

"Uh, good morning to you too?" Because how else do you respond to something like that. Especially since when I woke her up for her shift, her hair wasn't even messy and I'm pretty sure that mine is sticking up in six different directions. As soon as Annabeth turns around, I swipe at my mouth with the tissue and run a hand through my hair. By the light, I guess that it's early. Against my better judgment I look at the clock. I groan.

"Why, Chase. Why are we up at five a.m.?"

Annabeth just points at the street. I remember her talking a lot more when we were kids. Or maybe she's just that way with me.

The street is still crawling with zombies. And in some cases I mean literally crawling. Some of the zombies are missing legs, arm, half their torso. It's not pretty. Wait, is that guy-That guy's naked. He should not be naked.

"They've been reanimating all night. I guess the virus takes longer to wake up with some people." Annabeth is leaning against the window. She has the look. I tell her so.

"What look?"

"The _I'm-Planning-Something-Look_."

"I do not have an _I'm-Planning-Something-Look_, Jackson."

"Just spill, Chase."

Annabeth looks at me. I swear, I can see the gears in her head turning. Can't keep up with them if my life depends on it (and it might very well depend on it), but I can see her analyzing everything. Including me.

Now, don't get me wrong. Normally, a girl like Annabeth paying attention to me would be a good thing. But this is Annabeth. She has this way of looking at you like she's taking all of your pieces apart and putting them back together over and over and over again. She's been like that ever since we were kids. With most girls, I know what they see. With Annabeth? I've been watching her all semester and not once has she looked at me. So excuse me if the attention happens to make me nervous right now.

"Fine, I have a plan. But first, do you still have your phone?"

"Won't do us any good without signal, but yeah."

"C'mon." And she's got her crossbow in one hand, her bag in the other and she's headed out the door. I pick up Mr. Brunner's sword—Anak—Anka—I think he said the Greek translates to RIptide—and follow. Annabeth heads for the stairs, just like I expected. What I don't expect is her going up the stairs.

"Um, outside is that way."

"Roof."

Gotcha.

I am not going to lie. Under different circumstances, sneaking through the school, alone, with Annabeth would not necessarily be a bad thing. But as I mentioned before, she had a crossbow. And there are zombies outside. And I don't want her shoot me. Or feed me to the zombies. So, I stay a very respectful distance from her. Just so she knows I'm not getting any ideas.

Also, I don't want to trip and knock into her and set off the crossbow. That would be epic: Percy Jackson gets shot because he has zero night vision.

We reach the top floor.

"Hold up," is the only way I know not to run right into her.

"Watch the stairs," she says. Like she can see any better than I can. The door creaks as she eases it open. A second later, she calls for me to follow her. It's better outside. We still have a couple of hour until sunrise, but the end of life as we know has not completely conquered the city that never sleeps. New York City is still lit up.

Annabeth holds out her hand. I wrack my brain, trying to figure out what she wants before she smacks me. Thankfully, she looks at the pocket of my jacket and I figure it out before she has to say something. I fish out my phone and give it to her.

"It was a birthday present from my dad," I say when she looks up at me. Technically, the Isis5 isn't out yet. But when you're Poseidon Kronos and your company has that much stock in Hermes Mobile, it's kind of the least you can do. "Stop judging."

Annabeth rolls her eyes and dials.

"Mom?" There is a very long pause. Mrs. Pallas has never struck me as the touchy, feely type. But I can tell by the look on Annabeth's face that her mom is probably giving my mom a run for her money in the worried parent department.

Crap, my mom. She probably thinks I'm dead.

I am SO dead.

"No, I'm still at school. Yes, I'm fine." Nod. Nod. Rolls eyes. "No. Just me and…uh, Percy." Annabeth's face scrunches up, like she's anticipating a lightning strike. Apparently, nothing happens. "Okay. Yeah, okay. Do you think… Mom, I we're on our own over here…No I haven't. Okay. No, I think we can make it. Yeah, love you too."

Annabeth hangs up and hands me the phone.

"She says get off the island. They've got a barricade set up at the Holland Tunnel and they're using that to evacuate people."

"Hold on, I've gotta call my mom." I can see that she already tried to call me. Several times. I think I might be worse than dead. What's worse than dead?

"Jackson…"

"You called yours. I need to call mine." Her line rings. And rings. And keeps ringing until the voicemail picks up. I feel like I've had too much to eat on mystery meat day. The last time I stayed out overnight without telling my mom (totally unintentional, but it did not keep me from getting grounded) I don't think the phone had time to get through a full ring before she picked up and quite calmly told me that she had waited up all night for me. Something was wrong.

In all of this, it never had never occurred to me that my mom might be in trouble.

"Something's wrong," I say.

"She's probably just asleep."

"No. I know my mom."

I think I'm turning green. I feel like I'm turning green. Annabeth puts her hand on my arm as I fight being sick.

"What if—Annabeth, what if…" I can't get it out.

"Percy." She grabs my face. "She is fine. The police have been evacuating all of the burroughs all night. She's probably already left."

I pull her hands away. "You don't know my mom. She wouldn't leave without me. I have to go home or she won't leave." And then a thought hits me. "Or worse, she'll start looking for me."

I'm not thinking about how I would break my neck if fell when I rush down the stairs. I'm not thinking about zombies. Or how I'll get out. I know it's miles in the other direction. And that it's foolish. And that I might end up dead, but I don't think about that.

"Jackson. Jackson!" Annabeth's following me down the stairs. I burst out into the hall on the ground floor. "Percy!"

I stop. She almost runs into me. I catch her as the sudden stop nearly lands her on the floor. The pitch of her voice as she called my name has me expecting fear when I look down at her. I'm right. She doesn't pull away. If anything, she digs her fingers into my skin, trying to make sure I don't run again.

"You can't go out there. Not like this. You won't last ten minutes."

"I have to try Annabeth. If—"

"I know," she says. "I'm going with you." And she lets go of me. Now I'm the one who's ready to fall over.

"But your mom—"

"Told me to stay with you," she said. Annabeth looks out the double doors. Counting the people who used to be alive. "We have a better chance of surviving if we're together, Seaweed Brain."

"You'll help?"

"Of course." She grins. "Now go the cafeteria and get all of the frozen hamburger patties. Meet me back here in ten minutes." She grabs my arm when I turn to go. "We go to your place. We look and if we don't find her we leave. Got it. No more looking. We go straight to Lower Manhattan."

I nod.

I run to the cafeteria. Grabbing one of those metal serving carts, I rush into the freezer and load up all the frozen burgers I can find. Big boxes, with round little slabs of meat wrapped in waxed paper. Trying not to tip the cart I'm back in the main hall before Annabeth's deadline. She appears from the stairwell, wrapping gauze around her hand.

"Gods, what happened?" I reach out and take her hand. A clean straight line crosses the width of her palm. She rearranges the bandage and keeps wrapping.

"Nothing. Grab a box."

She leads me into the stair well. All the doors have been propped open. The metallic scent of blood is in the air. She points at a door and tells me to deposit my box on that floor while she goes one above me. She meets me on the way down. Two trips later, frozen meat is thawing on every floor of our school. We make a stop on the second floor for our stuff. That's when I see the dark smear on the wall.

"Chase, did you?"

I realize that her blood is what I was smelling as I spread meat across the floor.

"Keep up, Jackson." She's break another pane in the door and thrusting her arm through. If there ever was a doubt that Annabeth Chase is the toughest person I know, it's gone now. She sits there for a minute, glass in her arm, letting her blood ooze down the door. Not a sound leaves her lips. Reaching out, I take the her other hand. It's in a fist, but as soon as mine touches hers, she holds on. Squeezing hard.

One of the zombies turns in a motion too quick to be human. His stumbling progress up the stairs draws the attention of others. The group—horde—herd heads for us. Annabeth lets go of my hand and pulls her other arm from the small square just in time. Zombie 1's arm shoots in after her, but she's too quick. She grabs a towel that's been hanging from her back pocket and swipes at her arm. Then she has a fresh roll of gauze and is wrapping it around her arm.

We pull the bench away from the front door. It creaks as zombies pike up behind it, trying to force it open. Annabeth tips over the last two burger boxes and runs for the back of the school. Every time we've checked, the alley has seemed to be clear. Pulling the bench from the gym doors, I let them open a crack. Nothing. I pull them closed and look at Annabeth.

"So…" I say, thinking of our handy work. "Do you think we'll be expelled for this?"

Annabeth grins. "Definitely."

And then she pulls the fire alarm. The noise is deafening as we burst through the doors. The alley behind the school IS empty at the moment, but it's obvious that it's not going to stay that way for long. Three passing zombies are attracted by the noise and they see us. Annabeth lifts the crossbow and puts two of them down, while I take care of the third with my sword.

What's waiting for us outside the alley is worse. Annabeth did good, most of the corpses are heading down the wider street, to see what the noise is all about. A large group passes the alley and we dart out. Annabeth has the crossbow over her shoulder now and is fighting with her knife. I have to admit. Mr. Brunner has taught us well. It doesn't take us long to fall into a rhythm.

Annabeth is something to watch. Not that I'm watching her, I'm a little busy fighting for my life. But she was made for this. Whatever this new world holds, Annabeth rules it. People use to pass around memes and make posts about who would be on their zombie apocalypse team (what, I'm a teenager, I spend WAY too much time on Facebook). Whatever happens after I find my mom, I'm going to make sure that Annabeth is on mine.

"There," Annabeth calls. She points to an alley. Nothing is in our way.

"Go," I yell. I'm right behind her. Leaving a pile of bodies.

"I've got you," she says. I turn and run. Annabeth sends out three crossbow bolts that she will never get back and then I'm in the alley.

"Hold on," I say. I grab the dumpster. It's on wheels, so I have no problem pulling it away from the wall and sending it rolling into the mass of zombies. We run and we run and we run. Keeping to the alleys. Darting across major streets. I can still hear the alarm going off in the distance. Finally, we find a street with no zombies in it. It's empty. Occupied only by the objects that people left in their rush to get away. Or maybe they were beyond caring when they left this street.

"What now?" I'm panting. Leaning over, I try to catch my breath. Annabeth, leans against a store front. I look over. Her blonde curls are sticking to her neck, and between the damage done last night and what we just went through, her plaid shirt is probably not worth salvaging. But she's smiling. It's an exhausted smile, but it's a smile.

"Now," Annabeth says. "We steal a car."

I think I might be in love.

* * *

**And chapter three is up. I apologize if some of the Olympian parents seem a little OOC, but you have to think about the fact that if, for example, Athena's only kid was Annabeth and she wasn't immortal, the way she sould approach things would be completely different.**

**Also, I may have Google mapped Percy's apartment from TLT. Apparently he lives not too far from East Harlem. If anyone from NYC is reading this, I apologize in advance for any details that I get wrong about your lovely city. I have done my best using maps and Google for the details, but obviously it's not as good as first hand knowledge. I keep trying to get off Manhattan, but the story keeps going "NO! You get to stay her for another whole chapter." AGH!**

**So that's all for now. I have to work on my real book and clean.**

**Lemme know what you think**


	4. Annabeth picks out a lunchbox

When Annabeth said we were stealing a car, she did not actually mean a car.

When I say car I mean something good. You know Mustang, Corvette, Thunderbird, wait is that—

"A Maserati," I say. "Hey, Chase, check this out. I think I found our ride." Sleek. Black. With red leather seats and the keys still in the ignition. Not mention, I am digging the trident on the front.

"And how," she says, "do you propose we get that car out of there?"

She has a point. We're standing in the middle of a New York gridlock. Or I am at any rate. Annabeth has been carefully searching the cars on the edge. All around us are cars that were left behind as their owners ran. Many with the doors still open and the keys still in the ignition. Some cars have windows broken open and blood smears on the upholstery. I'm guessing their owners tried to wait it out. Wonder how many zombie bodies it takes to crack a windshield.

I hope I never find out.

"This is it." Annabeth waves me over.

"You are not serious."

She's standing next to a silver, two-door Prius at the edge of the street. The license plate is some weird name. Maybe foreign. Or some poor chick whose parents had weird taste. Although, I guess 'DAREYA' could be a guy. I feel even sorrier for him if he's a guy.

"Chase, it's a lunchbox. It's smaller than a lunchbox. I cannot ride in that car."

"Worried about your mancard, Jackson." She walks around to the driver side door and slides in. I cross my arms and step back.

"You aren't going to be able to drive that anywhere. We should—"

Annabeth backs the car up and drives it onto the sidewalk. I start to understand why its size attracted her. The lock on the passenger side door pops up.

"Are you getting in, Jackson?"

Annabeth has already proved that my best chance of survival is sticking with her. And I really like surviving. I get into the car.

"No one ever hears about this," I say.

"Just be glad I don't have my phone or this would be going on Instagram."

I grin.

Whatever the apocalypse means for the future of the world, I have to admit that it has done wonders for NYC's traffic situation. Nobody cut us off. We didn't have to wait behind anyone. The most we had to deal with were a few café tables and some zombies. The tables Annabeth avoided. The zombies, not so much. A couple of times we had to make sudden turns to out run a herd. But it was mostly uneventful on the way to my apartment. That should have been my first clue.

"Here." The door was open and I was running before Annabeth brought the car to a full stop. She got out, not really yelling, but saying very unflattering things about me loudly. I rush inside the open apartment door. She follows me up the stairs. The building is a mess. As in trashed. It's like the apartments vomited out half their contents.

"Oh my gods, Jackson," Annabeth says when I stop in front of my apartment door. "You are going to get us killed." She leans forward and takes a deep breath. When she sees that the hallway is clear, she puts her knife away. "Is this it?"

I nod. My hand is on the doorknob. The keys have made it from my pocket to the lock. But I can't open the door. Annabeth pulls the crossbow off her shoulder.

"Do you want me to go first?" I don't know what happened to her in the last five years. All I know is that when she looks at me it is with the same compassion I see in my cousin's eyes. Or in Luke's. Her eyes tell me that there are some things that kids should not have to see or hear. And I wonder what it was for her.

I shake my head and think of my cousins. There are things much worse than what could be waiting for me in that apartment.

Now my mom is like your mom, if you have an ordinary mom. Her housekeeping skills will never be featured in Martha Stewart. But what I walk into is a mess. My home has been, not ransacked—our DVDs are still in order, our TV is still there—but upset. I cross through the living room to the kitchen. Pantries are open. Boxes of food are on the counter. The bathroom reveals the same open doors and scattered items. I check the bedroom, but I know what I'll find. Clothes on the bed, drawers hanging open and—

I did not need to know that my mom owned that.

I exit quickly.

"She's not here," I say.

Annabeth puts the crossbow down on the coffee table. I sink onto our couch. My hand grasp at my hair, pulling my head forward. I am the worst son ever.

"I should have thought of the roof," I say. "Now she's out there looking for me and—"

"Hey. Hey. We don't know that." Annabeth sits down next to me. I startle when she puts an arm around my shoulders. "Sorry," she says. She blushes and looks away. If today were a normal day, I might wonder about what that means.

"No, it's okay." We lean into each other like we're twelve years old again.

"The police might have made her leave," Annabeth says. "I haven't seen any sign that the zombies were in this building. Just a lot of hurried packing." She wraps her arms around mine.

I do not want to ruin this moment.

Don't pass this on. But I've had a crush on Annabeth since I was twelve. Who wouldn't? She's smart. Pretty. She can be kind, like right now. She's a genius, but she doesn't try to make people feel stupid. I mean, it happens sometimes—okay, a lot of times—but it's never on purpose. And she's not afraid to stick with people. She was my best friend back then. Even more than Jason or Thalia or Bianca.

Five years and you think you'd get over someone who has refused to talk to you for just as long. But when she walked into first period algebra (seriously, whose idea was that?) at the beginning of Junior year, I knew. I still felt the same way. Well, not the same. I was just a kid when Annabeth moved to California. But you know what I mean. I just could never figure out how to open that door and get her back in my life. Not until yesterday. Wonder if I should take the world ending as a sign about our dating possibilities.

If you tell her any of this, she will kill me.

There's a creak behind us. Annabeth grabs the crossbow and has it pointing at the door as someone comes running at us. He's screaming. I'm screaming. Annabeth is yelling words that I don't catch in all the noise. But she's not shooting and he has a bat.

"Annabeth, watch out." I have Riptide out and in the air. The bat bounces off the flat of the blade.

"Annabeth… Percy?"

"Grover?" she and I say.

Grover places the end of the bat on the floor, leaning on it as he scratches at his Rasta cap.

"Annabeth, what are you doing here? I thought we hated Percy. Do we hate Percy?"

"Uh—no?"

I glare at her. What a rousing vote of confidence.

"Grover, why are you here?"

"Why am I here? This is my apartment. Why are you attacking me with a bat?"

"I was at Juniper's. We thought you were zombies, so I came to take care of it." Right, I had forgotten that Juniper Cupress lives on the floor below me.

Annabeth snorts. The she flings herself at Grover, wrapping her arms around his neck. I am suddenly very jealous of a guy with a ginger gotee.

"I'm glad you're okay." She hugs him so tight it looks like it's hard to breath. Grover hugs her back. They babble with relief. She asks questions. He answers. From what I hear, Juniper was too freaked out by what as on the news to leave her apartment. Grover had come over yesterday after school, and he offered to stay the night, just to see if things calmed down in the morning. She still didn't want to leave.

"I think this is as calm as it's going to get," Annabeth says. "I'll go convince her to pack." Lifting her crossbow again, she heads out. I give Juniper ten minutes before she's up here with all her worldly possessions.

"So," Grover begins, giving me a look. "Looks like your study date went well."

I shrug.

"You know what happened to her arm?" he asks. His eyes are still fixed on me. For a scrawny guy questionable facial hair, he looks pretty intimidating with that bat resting against his leg. Grover has never struck me as a violent guy, but I guess the end of the world can change things. Or maybe it's just Annabeth.

"Zombies happened."

I explain everything that had happened from the time that Annabeth found me up until now. Grover's eyes grow wider as the story progresses.

"Whoa."

"I know."

"I've always known that Annabeth was tough, especially with—" Grover stops and looks down, tapping the bat against his foot.

"What?" Glancing, I confirm that the doorway is empty. "Dude, if you know something, then spill before Annabeth gets back."

Grover fidgets. Paces. Looks at door. Looks at me.

"You know Annabeth's dad remarried, right?"

I nod.

"Well, he never told her this officially, but she kind of got the impression that she wasn't—wanted anymore. Ms. Pallas had wanted her to come back for a while, it just never happened. Annabeth wanted to finish school with the friends she made in San Fran. But then, her stepmom got pregnant and it got really awkward, so now she's here." He pauses. I can hear the girls voices coming up the stairs. "I did not just tell you all of that. Got it?"

Saying no to Grover's pleading look would be cruel. Especially since I would never want Annabeth's wrath incurred against myself. The girls walk in the door. Juniper has a backpack stuffed to the brim and a plastic bag.

"Well, they haven't killed each other yet." Annabeth's statement makes Juniper cringe.

Juniper is what you would call an emancipated minor. The Cupresses are big time environmentalists. Way outdoorsy. She spends a good portion of the year living by herself while they travel around the globe. Sometimes for business, sometimes for pleasure. If school's out, she'll go with them, but usually she just stays home. She's gotten really good at taking care of herself over the last year. She totally hates violence. Even glaring contests at school make her uncomfortable.

She changes the subject.

"Lemme see that arm," Juniper says. Annabeth tries to shrug her off, but Juniper grabs her by the upper arm and marches her over to the couch. She deftly unwraps the gauze around Annabeth's arm and hand. I have to look away. The hand isn't so bad. That was a clean cut. But the glass has left several ragged, gaping wounds on her forearm. "Percy, can you get some water? And soap?"

"Gods, Annabeth," Grover exclaims. He crowds me out as he kneels down next to Annabeth. I head into the kitchen to get what Juniper asked for. It takes two minutes, during which I try not to pay too much attention to the mess around me. I return with the water and soap, feeling like a third wheel, which makes no sense since there's four of us.

Annabeth winces as Juniper cleans her arm. I know the soap has got to sting.

"Lemme see if we've got something for the pain," I say. My mom raided the bathroom in the hall pretty thoroughly, but I know for a fact that she keeps a giant bottle of ibuprofen in her bathroom closet. Sure enough, there it is. This bathroom isn't ransacked like the other rooms in the house. Things were taken carefully. My mom's favorite shampoo is gone and her body wash. And…

"Annabeth!"

I rush back into the living room.

"What, what is it?" She's halfway to me, clean gauze wrapped around her arm. Her hand is still wet and glistening. Grabbing her good arm, I drag her into my parent's bathroom.

"My mom wasn't forced out. Look."

Annabeth does look. At me. Like I'm crazy.

"My stepdad's razor."

"You have a stepdad?" Annabeth blinks, looking to Grover. Who nods.

"If his stuff is missing, I bet he convinced her to go."

"But you said she wouldn't."

Grover and Juniper share a look.

"What?" Annabeth and I ask at the same time. We really need to stop doing that.

"Percy, the police told us that no one got out of Murray Hill alive. Your mom thought you were dead."

Oh gods.

"But she hasn't been answering—"

"Her cellphone?" Annabeth finishes. She holds up my mom 's Isis S4. The screen is completely shattered. Third phone this year. "She's probably headed to the barricade on Lincoln Higheay."

I've got my phone out and I'm dialing Paul's number. I'm not gonna lie, after me, my stepdad is probably the best thing that happened to my mom. His phone goes to voicemail. I leave a message and hang up. I've just hit the end call button when my phone is ringing.

"Percy?"

"Mom."

She's talking. Asking me questions. All I can think is: "My mom is okay. My mom is okay."

"I'm so sorry, honey, I never would have left. They told me—They told me—"

My mom breaks off. I try not to hear the fact that she's crying. Because I think I might start crying if she pushes it too hard. And Annabeth's standing in front of me. She reaches out and squeezes my arm, motioning that she and the others are going to wait outside. My mom is still talking.

"Can you get to the barricade?" she asks.

"Yeah, we're about to head there now."

"Okay. We'll wait for you."

"No." My pulse skyrockets. I think of all the people I saw on the streets yesterday. The little girl in the yellow shirt. Her mom was probably somewhere nearby. Had her dad waited for them? There were no guarantees in this new world. "No, I'm with Annabeth and Grover. We've got a car. We'll be fine. You and Paul get on the other side, okay? I'll see you there."

"Percy…"

"I love you, Mom."

"I love you too, honey."

Annabeth comes back to the doorway.

"Percy, we need to go. Now."

The look on her face has me out the door. We race down the stairs. Grover and Juniper have already thrown their stuff in the back of the Prius and climbed in. Three blocks up the road, there's a herd heading our way. Annabeth and I get in the car and she peels out.

"Not a word to anybody," I say turning to Grover.

I am greeted by the flash of his cameraphone.

* * *

**Did ya'll catch the Easter Egg? Mwahaha...If you did, not telling. You'll just have to wait and see.**

**Enjoy.**

**Reviews are candy. And I love candy.**


	5. Barricade, sweet barricade

"Worst zombie apocalypse ever," Grover mutters from the backseat.

"Are you complaining?" Percy asks. "Do you want us to get eaten by zombies?"

We can see the barricade. Chain link and metal poles has been stretched between buildings, creating a twenty foot gate that a prison would be jealous of. The car has to be left here. There are too many other vehicles clogging the street for us to drive all the way.

When this is all over, scavengers are going to have a field day.

We grab our stuff out of the back and start weaving our way through cars. Juniper has been silent this whole time. I can tell this is overwhelming her. She leans into Grover. Worrying about Juniper is what's keeping Grover from panicking. I've known him for a long time and his first reaction to danger is definitely flight. He fights it. Which I think makes him the bravest person I know.

"Stop right there," a soldier says. "Hands up."

We stop. But not because he says please. He has a rifle pointed right at me.

"You, with the bandage, how're you wounded?"

"Glass," I say.

"You're sure. No bites."

"No bites."

He lowers the gun and motions us forward. We hurry to comply. When we are right in front of the gate, he opens it. We are all ushered inside. There is another massive chain link gate thirty feet ahead. Several tents are set up in two rows.

"Boys on the left. Girls on the right. You'll have to submit to a strip search if you want to get to the inner barricade." He gestures in each direction.

"Strip search?" Juniper asks.

"Have to make sure you don't have any bites."

He sends us on

"I'll be right there the whole time," I say to her.

Juniper shakes her head.

"If it will keep us safe," she says, "I don't mind."

Arm in arm, she and I head into the tents on the right where we are asked to remove all of our clothes. The searchers (on our side, at least) are all female and very thorough. They spend several minutes asking about my arm. The gauze sticks to the cuts as they pull it off. At last, they hand us our clothing and give us green armbands. I get an extra blue one, which they say means I should see the medics.

"Wow. This is as good as a concert," I say.

Juniper giggles as she puts her pants back on. I'm having difficulty getting my button up from yesterday on over my damaged arm. The rough fabric keeps catching on the edges of my wounds. Finally, I decide to stick with the black tank top for now. If I had been smart I would have grabbed a shirt from Sally's wardrobe. It would have been too big, but at least it would have been clean.

It was cold inside the tents. It's freezing. All of the hairs on my arms immediately stand up. The boys are waiting for us at the second gate. We show the guards our wristbands and are allowed through. The scene on the other sides is a mess. Stepping from between two buildings, we're on Lincoln Highway. As far as we can see in either direction it has been turned into a disaster zone. People wait just feet from the gates looking for loved ones. There are tents all over the street. 42nd Street Plaza has been transformed. Everywhere is crowded as they tried to fit in the remainder of NYC's 8.5 million inhabitants.

"Percy?" is shouted from the crowd. People are pushed apart and someone comes flying at Percy. She slams into him and wraps her arms around him. Another figure is right behind her, though not quite as exuberant.

"Gods, Percy, we thought you were dead," Thalia says. She and Jason aren't even paying attention to the rest of us. I look at Grover and Juniper and shrug. We turn to go.

"I'm sorry, you're going to have to turn your weapons in."

Percy and I turn to face the woman who has spoken. Her posture and the tone of her voice mark her as military, even if she's not in uniform. I start to cross my arms, think better of it and leave them hanging at my side. Percy is already starting to remove Anaklusmos.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but we don't feel comfortable with that," I say. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Percy shoot me a look that says, 'We don't?'. "With everything that has happened in the last two days, we think it's smarter to keep them with us."

"I assure you that everything is perfectly safe here, miss. But we can't have kids running around with weapons they don't know how to use."

Percy puts a hand on my shoulder. Let me try his eyes tell me.

"Ma'am," he says, "do you know who my father is?"

The woman blinks once.

"No. And frankly, young man—"

"But you know who mine is," a young man says from behind her. He's tall and muscular, but with a little bit of the baby fat still around his face. Definitely Asian, Chinese if I'm reading his facial structure right. "It's cool, Lieutenant. They go to my school."

"That's all very good, but—"

"Besides, you wouldn't want to infringe on American citizens second amendment rights." That seems to placate the woman. The newcomer turns to us and holds out his hand. "Frank Zhang-Ultor. My dad is officer in charge here at the barricade."

We shake hands with him.

"Let me know if there's anything else you need."

"I think we'll be fine," Percy says.

Frank nods and heads back into the crowd. And it's a just the six of us again. We stand there awkwardly. Thalia looks at me. Jason looks at Thalia. Grover looks at Percy. Everybody is looking for someone else to talk first.

"Hey, Annabeth," Thalia ventures. She reaches out and gives me an awkward hug. "I'm glad you guys are all right."

"Thanks," I say. Silence. "I'm gonna go see the medic. Um, why don't the rest of you get some food? I'll come find you."

At the mention of food, Grover's eyes light up. We all head over to the group of tents at the 42nd Street Plaza. I part from the others and head over to the medical tents.

"How did you do this?" the doctor asks as she examines my arm.

"I shoved my arm through a window."

She looks up at me. I quickly explain how we escaped this morning. She nods.

"Well, I can clean it up. It'll need stitches, but all I have right now is topical anesthetic. You'd still feel some pain. If you want I can patch it up until you get to the other side."

I look down at my arm. The edges of the three cuts look good. Nice and straight.

"I can handle it," I say. "I'd rather not wait till we get to the other side."

The woman contemplates me for a minute. She must decide that I indeed can handle it because next thing I know, she's pulling out sutures and antiseptic.

"You know you really don't have to prove your reputation as a bad ass. We believe you."

Percy is standing behind me. He holds out a bottle of water and sandwich wrapped in plastic. From the smears at the edges it looks like some sort of tuna or chicken salad. I take the water gratefully. He looks at me for a minute then, pulls off his jacket and drapes it around my shoulders.

"Thought you might be hungry."

"Thanks," I say.

"Do you want me to call you mom and let her know you're here?"

I shake my head. The doctor takes my arm and begins to clean out the cuts. I fight the urge to grimace.

"She'd ask me questions. I don't feel like thinking that hard just yet."

Percy just nods. Then he holds out his hand. I take it, just like I did this morning and hold on as the doctor starts to stitch up my arm. It begins to burn as she draws the skin together.

"Um, so…" I start. "Have they told you anything? About what's causing the outbreak? Or how it started?"

"As far as I've heard, it spread through the major airports." She doesn't look up as she talks. Just keeps piercing my skin and pulling it together. "We're not sure how the original virus was spread, but it seems to spread solely through the bite." The needle pierces my skin again and I hiss. The doctor looks at me with concern. I'm trying to think of more questions. But all I can think about is the fact that needle is going to jab into the other side of my cut in a minute. And then she's going to pull.

"So it's just through the bite?" Percy says. When the doctor gives him a look, he just shrugs. "Keep talking. Learning always distracts her."

I have to smile at how well Percy still knows me.

"So far yes. We have a handful of people that were just scratched. They're in quarantine." She nods to buildings behind us. A sort of pen has been erected and it's full of people who are obviously still living. "Left to on its own, the virus kills in 24 hours. Perhaps scratches kill more slowly, but I don't think so. We weren't able to find any abnormalities in their blood." She's finished on laceration and is halfway through the second. This one doesn't hurt as much, though if that's because the topical anesthetic has had more time to work or because I'm getting used to the pain, I don't know.

"What." I have to swallow. "What kind of virus is it?"

"As far as we can tell, it seems to be a mix between HIV and viral encephalitis. They haven't figured out what's animating them after death." She finishes on the last gash and looks my hand. She doesn't have to say that it's going to hurt. "Don't bite your lip. I don't want to have to stitch that up too."

Percy laughed.

"Remind me to hit you later," I say.

She's quick and it's done. Finally. She hands me some painkillers and I'm dismissed. Percy is already dialing my mom.

"She says stay here," he says, putting the phone back in his pocket.

You can tell when my mom arrives. Even in the middle of an apocalypse, she demands everyone's attention. You can see the wave of people parting before you see her. She's still dressed for work, black slacks, white button down, her hair twisted up on top of her head. All that's missing is her black blazer. Her boots thump against the pavement.

My mom wraps her arms around and I am safe.

"Hey kiddo."

* * *

**Yes. In case you're wondering, the license plate was the Easter egg. Haven't decided if we'll see Rachel. But I needed to at least mention her in some way.**

**Time for me to go back to NaNo.**


	6. Annabeth did not fall far from the tree

I don't know what it is about Annabeth's mom.

I mean, we're all teenagers. Half of us nearly adults. But give us a parental figure in a time of crisis and you'd think we were still toddlers. Maybe we crowd around her because Ms. Pallas is calm and collected. Maybe it's because even despite a zombie apocalypse, she has managed to keep her white shirt spotless. Even Thalia and Jason come join us. Ms. Pallas doesn't even blink, she just ushers them over to where Annabeth stands with Grover and Juniper. We clump together as we wait for our group to be called. They are only letting so many people through Lincoln Tunnel at a time.

I haven't seen my mom.

I hope that means that she went ahead of me. I should probably be glad that she never got into the whole zombie thing, or she never would have left.

"I spoke with your mother, Percy," Athena says.

"You did? Was she okay?"

"She and your stepfather are fine. I told her to go on to the other side and try and get accommodations set up for all of us." She smiles at me like she knows exactly how badly I wanted to keep my mom safe.

Mom and I have always looked out for each other. For many years it was just her and me. My parents were never married. Dad had wanted to, but he skipped out when his father threatened to take away his inheritance if my father did not marry my stepmom, Amphitrite. I think I was six before my parents were actually on speaking terms again. Mom has always insisted on being independent and despite Dad's many offers it wasn't until I started having trouble in school that she accepted a dime from him. I guess she thought a smaller, private school would work better for a kid with ADHD and dyslexia. Luckily for her MO caters to kids just like me.

That's right. Annabeth Chase, local genius, is dyslexic too. If I hadn't known her for so long, I don't think I would have ever guessed that. It's probably the only reason she hasn't skipped grades.

"I'm not sure I like the way you are looking at my daughter, Mr. Jackson."

I jump a little. Okay, maybe I was looking over where Annabeth is standing bringing Thalia and Jason up to date with everything that's happened.

"Uh," I say. "If you mean with admiration and complete respect, I don't see why not." Am I sweating? I think I'm sweating. Or it could just be the shirt. Should have changed when I was at home. Why didn't I change when I was at home?

"Make sure it stays that way." And she fixes those eyes on me. Gray and cold. Ms. Pallas' eyes have always been disconcerting to me. It feels like she knows every thought that I am thinking right now. Even the ones that I'm not thinking. Because there are some thought I am definitely not thinking right now.

I nod like I we've reached some mutual agreement (though I have no idea what it is) and retreat to where my cousins and friends are standing. On the other side of the circle from Annabeth. Ms. Pallas' gaze feels hot on the back of my neck. Jason lets me into the little circle.

"So what about Nico and Bianca?" Annabeth is asking Thalia. My cousin shakes her head.

"We haven't heard from them. According to Dad, Uncle Hades was planning on having them picked up from the apartment helipad, but then the air space was restricted." Thalia shrugs. There was supposed to be another helicopter picking her and Jason. I think she might prefer getting eaten by zombies. Thalia hates heights.

"Do you think Hazel's with them?" I ask.

"Who's Hazel?" Annabeth looks at each of us in turn. "Don't tell me Nico has a girlfriend."

If there weren't people being eaten by zombies right I would laugh. I forgot how out of the loop Annabeth is. Beside me, Jason coughs. And Thalia manages a grin.

"Hazel is Nico and Bianca's half-sister," Thalia explains. "She moved up from New Orleans last year after her mom died. She goes to a girl's high school nearby."

Annabeth looks at me and I know she's doing the math. Until last year, Hades had been the only one of the Kronos siblings that had a spotless reputation. Having a daughter just a few months older than his son kind of ruined that. Annabeth has been privy to enough Kronos family feuds to know that that Hades held that fact against Zeus and my dad. I shrugged. My dad's family is majorly screwed up.

"Persephone wasn't very happy," I say. "But Hazel's pretty cool."

"We should go back and get them," Jason says. "Annabeth still has the keys to the car."

Annabeth shakes her head. "We need to stay inside the safe zone. Let the rescue teams know about them. That's their job."

I see Jason's fists clench.

"Look, you may not know the meaning of family or friends…"

"Jason, she's right."

Which is probably not my smartest idea. My cousin wouldn't hit a girl. I on the other hand am a different story. We have gotten into our fair share of fights. And dished out our fair share of broken noses and black eyes. What can I say, we're family. Lucky for me, we are all distracted by the fact that the mass of people is shifting forward. The girls and Grover move closer to the tunnel. Thalia starts talking to Ms. Pallas (I have never in my life called her Athena and I never will, I do not want her to smite me). Jason hangs back, grabbing my arm to keep me with him.

"Seriously, Percy, you're going to side with Annabeth?"

"She's right."

"They're our family," he says. He looks over at Annabeth, who is still wearing my swim team jacket. "Oh my gods, you like her." Jason's eyes seem to grow brighter. Like they're crackling. It's a trait he and his sister inherited from their dad. I start to defend myself, but Jason just plows on. "Percy this is Annabeth Chase. The girl who ditched us and moved to San Francisco."

"That wasn't her choice." Deep breaths, I tell myself. Deep breaths. If I swing at Jason, the men with the guns will probably think I'm a zombie on the rampage and getting shot is only slightly lower than getting eaten by zombies on my list of 'Things I Never Want to Do'.

"You don't owe her anything."

"Yes, I do." This time I'm the one who cuts Jason off. "Look, if Annabeth hadn't gone after me, I would be dead. She's the reason we made it here alive. So forgive me if I'm following her lead right now. Besides, I promised my mom I'd meet her on the other side."

Jason isn't paying attention to me anymore. Great. He's giving me the silent treatment. I thought only my mom did that.

"Ignore me all you want, Grace…"

"Um, Perce."

"What."

"I don't think that's gonna happen." He points behind me. At first I think he's pointing at Annabeth. But she's not even facing us. She's looking towards the tunnel. There is a mass of people running away from it. Those screams. They're the same screams I heard last night as Annabeth and I hid in the dumpster. The screams of people being torn apart while they're still alive. Ms. Pallas grabs Annabeth and Grover and shouts over her shoulder at the rest of the group.

"Come on boys," she says as she passes us. It's obvious where Annabeth inherited quick-thinking gene that makes her so good at surviving during an apocalypse. For a minute, despite the fact that Annabeth is blonde and her mom's hair is dark. Despite the fact that Ms. Pallas draws heavily from the Greek side of her background, but Annabeth looks more like her dad, they are exactly the same.

"Over there," Annabeth says. "It's Frank. Frank!"

We slip between a line of soldier running towards the zombies and regroup around Frank. I'm glad I'm not the only one who is intimidated by Annabeth's mom. Frank stares up at Ms. Pallas like she's actually the Greek goddess that she's named after and fully capable of turning him into some small, easily squished creature.

"Frank, what's going on? What happened," Annabeth asks.

"From what I heard over the radio, a herd broke through on the Jersey side." He answers Annabeth's question, but he's looking at her mom. He's got his shoulders thrown back, his arms crossed behind, like he's reciting to a drill sergeant. "They've got it under control, I think, but a large group managed to make it into the tunnel. The soldiers will have this side cleaned up shortly. Ma'am."

"Is there somewhere we can wait this mess out?" Ms. Pallas asks.

Frank nods and we follow. He leads us to a group of camouflage tents that are in the wrong kind of jungle. A burly man with a buzz cut is just leaving a tent, I think he might have an entire armory strapped to his chest.

"Frank," he says.

"Dad. Just getting these civilians to safety."

"That's my boy," he says. Hooking a thumb in his belt, he extends his other hand to Ms. Pallas. "Ares Ultor."

"Athena Pallas," Annabeth's mom says, taking his hand. She ignores the way his eyes travel up and down her body, despite the wedding ring on his hand. After one business-like pump, she lets go. "I hope you'll pardon the intrusion."

"Not at all, ma'am. Less civilians in my way out there. Now if you'll excuse me." He starts offs, then turn back. "Frank, I know you'd rather be out there with your old man, but you know how your mom'll feel about you getting into trouble."

Frank's face relaxes as his dad strides away.

"We should be safe here as long as…" His eyes are fixed on a set of television screens. Apparently, we've been watched. One camera is trained right on the gate. Not content with merely causing mass mayhem as they run around panicking, people are literally storming the gates. The two soldiers stationed there are beyond outnumbered. One of them fires his gun into the air, but the crowd quickly figures out that they don't want to shoot live people. The crowd rushes through first one gate and then the other.

"Frank," Ms. Pallas says, "we need weapons and we need weapons now."

"Why. What's the big deal? If they wanna take their chances in the city, let them," Jason says.

Annabeth's mom just points to the screen.

"Holy Hera," I say. Annabeth was right about noise attracting zombies. A colorless mass is moving towards the gates and they are still wide open.

Frank nods and motions for us to follow him inside one of the tents.

"Whoa. Mr. Brunner's got nothing on this dude."

Ares has obviously left most of his arsenal behind.

"Yeah. My dad is prepared for pretty much any possible apocalypse. Here are the zombie weapons." He points to crates of swords, knives, guns.

"Alright, do any of you shoot?" Ms. Pallas asks. We all shake our heads except for Frank. "Fine. Better that way, anyways." She hands out knives and swords. When she holds a machete out to Juniper, the girl looks at her with wide eyes, then, even though her hand is shaking, Juniper reaches out and takes the weapon. Thalia gets a spear and a crossbow. Frank is busy stuffing guns and ammo into a rucksack. Jason has found his own sword. Annabeth adds more bolts to her quiver. She can't always retrieve the ones she shoots. Ms. Pallas picks up a shield and spear as Frank attaches a silencer to a handgun.

When we exit the tent, we don't need to look at the monitors to know what is happening at the gate. The people are flooding back through the gate and they're being followed. The zombies have entered the safe zone from both sides. Ms. Pallas and Annabeth pause, and their body language is so similar they could be the same person.

"Mom, do you think…"

"Yes." She turns to us. "Percy, Jason, I want to take the front. People will get out of your way. We'll follow you. Frank and I have the rear. Try not to hurt anyone. Annabeth, show them where to go."

Jason and I go, Annabeth right on our heels. Behind me I listen for the noise of Frank's gun. That's when I'll know we're in trouble.

"Just go straight ahead," Annabeth says.

Jason starts to say something, but I shoot him a look and he shuts up. Or maybe it's the pop from Frank's pistol that gets him moving. Ms. Pallas was right. When people see Jason and I pushing through the crowd, they start to get out of the way. We shoulder and shove and people don't argue. They just adjust direction and continue panicking. There are two more pops from Frank and the crunch of metal meeting flesh and bone.

"Over there," Annabeth says. She points to a narrow alley that is block off by a high, chain link fence. Too high to climb. And I would not want to tangle with the razor wire at the top.

"How is this any safer?" Jason asks.

Annabeth brandishes a crowbar.

"We're not staying here. This isn't safe anymore. Can one of you give me a hand with this," she says. I'm reaching out to help, when Ms. Pallas calls out.

"Percy, Thalia, a little help." We head to the rear. The zombies aren't thick, yet. But there's a steady stream of them that we're having to fend off. Frank and Thalia try to cut them off before they can get to us, Ms. Pallas and I take care of the ones that get by them. Behind us, I hear the sound of metal scraping against stone. And then the bouncing of chain link being pushed aside.

"We're good," Annabeth calls out.

"Frank, you and Thalia go first. Make sure the path is clear. Jason, go with them, the rest of you follow. And be careful."

A group of people run past, creating a barrier between us and the zombies. Ms. Pallas steps back and grabs Annabeth, pulling her into a tight hug. Her shirt is no longer spotless.

"I love you," she says. She kisses the top of Annabeth's head. "No. Don't argue. I want you to go. Forget about me. If I make it through this I will find you. But don't wait for me. I want you safe." Annabeth's hands clutch at her mom convulsively, before she is pushed away and into the alley. The fence is destroyed and I understand why Ms. Pallas is staying. Someone has to keep the zombies from going back through that whole for as long as possible.

One by one, my friends slip into the quiet alley. The mayhem at the gate must've drawn all the zombie off. I'm about to go through when Ms. Pallas grabs my arm.

"You take care of my daughter. Do you hear me?" she says.

"Annabeth can take care of herself," I say. I glance into the alley, where everyone is waiting for me. Annabeth's mom shakes her head.

"She will think that, you'll survive longer together. She can be stubborn and hard-headed, but you stick with her. Help her stay safe and she'll return the favor," she says. For the first time, her eyes don't scare me. She smiles and places her hand on my shoulder. And I realize that she knows. She's asking this of me because I will be there and she won't. "Your loyalty to your friends is your greatest strength and your greatest weakness, Percy Jackson. Try not to let it get you killed."

She shoves me. I stumble to the other side of the fence. When I turn back to her, she just shakes her head sadly.

"You remind my daughter that I love her. Remind her every day." She turns to face the oncoming horde. It's a mass now. And hard to tell which are living and which are dead. I turn and run. I could take a minute to pull the fence back into place, but it wouldn't hold long if a group of zombies decide it looks like a door. And besides, it might be a way out for someone else.

Annabeth and Frank are at the entrance to the alley. She looks at me and I shake my head. She nods and then her attention is back where it needs to be. I envy how easy she makes it look. It's taking everything in me to stay present and not be freaking out about my own mom.

"So what now?" Thalia asks.

"We get the hell off this island, that's what," Grover says. Next to him, Juniper nods.

"There has to be somewhere that's safe," she says.

"Percy." Annabeth turns to me. "Does your dad still have boats at his lakehouse in Montauk?" When I nod she goes on, "Then that's where we'll go. We'll pick up food and supplies along the way, enough to last us for a while. But first, we go find Nico and Bianca."

My eyes flick to Jason, who is nodding. He catches me looking and blushes a little. I could bring it up later, but I won't.

"We should go now," Frank says. "While they're distracted."

"Alright," Annabeth says. "Once you cross 11th, just keep going. Keep going until I say stop. Keep quiet and keep alert."

Everyone nods. Frank and Thalia take the lead and the rest of us follow, Annabeth pushing us on from behind. Frank has put his gun away for now. Instead, he has wicked looking knife. But we don't encounter many zombies. I wonder how large a crowd is attacking the safe zone. That many living people and that much noise, I'm surprised that it took this long. We pause a few times so that Annabeth and Thalia can take out stragglers with their crossbows.

"We need a new set of wheels," I say to Annabeth, she nods.

"There," she says. She points at a dry cleaner's as we pass it.

We call out and the others stop.

"Gee, Annabeth, you trying to say something?" Grover asks.

"I'm saying that I think you can fit a lot of teenagers in the back of a delivery van." She tries the door. Whoever left did not think that locking up was a priority. She opens the door and we all head inside. "Jason, Grover, go see if any of the delivery vans are still here. Thalia, see if you can get Bianca to answer her cellphone."

"Mine's dead," Thalia says.

"Use Percy's," Annabeth replies. "The rest of us are going to see if we can't find some warmer clothes. We'll need them if we're going to survive winter."

"Hey." I grab Annabeth's arm as the others start to head off. "You okay."

Annabeth swallows. "Yeah, I'll be fine," she says. Neither of us move. "Do you think she made it, Percy?" She doesn't look up as she asks the question.

"I don't know." I shrug. "Do you think mine did?"

"I don't know," she says. Her voice is raspy and it cracks as she repeats the sentence. "I don't know." I put an arm around her shoulders. I'm not sure what I expected. Maybe for her to lean into me for just a second before running off with that speed and determination that always made her so formidable on the soccer field. Instead, Annabeth rests her forehead on my shoulder. It takes a minute for me to realize that her shoulders are shaking.

"Hey, hey," I start, but I stop. Because it's not okay. Nothing about this is okay. So instead I say, "I'm right here." She wraps her arms around my waist and cries harder. Horrible, heartbroken sobs. I put my other arm around her and glare at the others. _Scram, _I mouth. They disperse to carry out Annabeth's orders.

I want to tell her that it's going to be alright. I want to tell her that I'm sure her mom is fine. But we'd both know I was lying. Because I'm pretty sure we're on our own now. So I just hold her as she cries and I try not to think about my own mom.

"Sorry," she mutters when she's cried herself out.

"It's fine," I say. What else can you say? 'You got snot on my shirt', just doesn't seem like a legitimate complaint anymore. She sniffs and wipes the tear tracks away. I squeeze her shoulder once, before ducking behind the counter. "Do you think we'd find anything in the employee break room?"

Grover and Jason burst into the room before Annabeth has a chance to answer. Jason takes one look at Annabeth's red streaked face and looks a little sheepish. Grover glances from me to Annabeth and then starts talking.

"Okay, so no go with the van, but Jason thought he saw one up the street a little ways," he says.

Annabeth goes to the door and unlocks it. She opens the door and then closes it again quickly.

"We've got zombies," she says. She looks at me. I don't have to ask what that means.

"Then I guess, we wait them out," Jason says.

"There'll be more the longer we wait. They've probably finished down at the barricade and now they're spreading out through the city again. If we're going to get to your cousins, we don't have time."

"So you're saying, someone has to go out in that?"

Annabeth looks at the three of us. "Do you have a better idea?"


End file.
